Until You Ask
by Kitsune1978
Summary: It all started with rejection. With her hand pushing him away firmly, with her sleepily mumbled irritation, with her calm, deep, ignorant breathing while he was lying near, trembling with need... Human as they come, irrational or not, he couldn't leave it as it was, feeling compelled to take even the slightest revenge. "I'll wait until you ask then." GAAMATSU LEMON, complete.
1. Chapter 1

The idea of the story came to me a couple of months ago. I've seen a certain picture by NaruNarutoFKA from dA, and I thought to myself: "I just need to read some GaaMatsu lemon, and fast!" To my astonishment, I didn't find any typical lemon about those two! I was kinda frustrated and I decided to follow the rule: "If there's no fanfiction meeting your expectations, write it yourself!" So... I did it. I was writing "Alive And Victorious" and "Until You Ask" in the same time, but the latter was harder to get it right. It is not exactly what I wanted to create, still, but I'm tired with endless rewriting. This is definitely a lemon but not pwp, since there is some plot, even if quite superficial. It turned out I'm not able to write pwp. It is too boring.

So here's the first part, a kind of prologue. Let me know if you'd like to read the next part ;P I'm telling you, it's gonna be quite a ride ;P

Oh, I forgot to mention Gaara and Matsuri are both adults in this story; he's 23 and she's 24. And the most important thing: today's my birthday! And this is my birthday gift! *rubbing hands*

Betareading: **Annabella Colt**

Enjoy.

**~~Until you ask~~**

It all started with rejection. With her hand pushing him away firmly, with her sleepily mumbled irritation, with her calm, deep, ignorant breathing while he was lying near, trembling with need.

Not that there were no rejections earlier. During their relationship, which lasted almost two years as of now, there were many times when one of them, or sometimes both, didn't really feel like having sex. Yet it had never flustered him before like it did this time and he was perfectly aware why.

Yashamaru.

Even after learning that the Kazekage forced his uncle's betrayal and Yashamaru was actually deeply fond of his little nephew, Gaara could still feel the sting of pain, stuck in his chest for the last seventeen years. And on this particular day, the anniversary of the infamous betrayal, he could feel it especially intense – the pain of his innocent, vulnerable world being shaken with unreasonable cruelty, and irretrievably thrown into darkness.

That tormented six-year-old child still resided somewhere in the deep recess of his mind and even after gaining the acknowledgment from villagers and slowly learning how to develop bonds and trust others, the only people he could completely open his heart to were his siblings and Naruto.

And, as it turned out, Matsuri as well.

It took a ridiculously long time for him to test her in every possible way to ascertain that her feelings for him were constant and strong. Only then he could muster up all his courage and declare his love for her, to gain an immediate and complete acceptance. And in this way their relationship began, maybe not an easy one, but it was expectable, considering who they were – both orphaned at the young age, the teacher and student, the former Jinchuuriki and the kunoichi, the Kazekage and his former fangirl. As a shinobi they have been taught many things about the opposite sex – where to strike to inflict the strongest pain possible, how to corner psychologically both men and women, how to use their own physical and mental assets to misdirect the enemy. The only thing they had to learn by themselves was how to touch each other to give the most intense pleasure, how to be honest rather than manipulate each other to achieve their goal, and how to resign themselves to things they didn't fully understand about their partner yet they were willing to accept because of love.

Rejection was one of those things they had to learn how to cope with, and Gaara thought he was doing well in that field. But now he could vividly sense the turmoil within himself, the old fury and deep-rooted disappointment trying to surface his conscious mind even if he knew it was all completely irrational. He had shared with Matsuri many details of his dark past but never mentioned his uncle's actions and how they drove him to stigmatise himself with the kanji on his forehead – the mark which had come to strike fear in the hearts of all who beheld it. Nobody knew the full truth about Yashamaru, not even Gaara's own siblings, but they at least knew the exact date when their uncle had died and their brother had been completely consumed by a monster. Matsuri didn't know any of it. She was utterly ignorant that just on that particular day he needed her more than ever. Gaara knew it was his own fault to pass over in silence that part of his personal story, but he just couldn't bring himself to express it in words and relive those devastating moments. Matsuri couldn't also know that today was especially challenging for him, with the negotiations with Iwagakure going awry and the envoy from Kusagakure bringing another absurd message concerning the recent trade agreement they had made with Suna. When he had come home at the dead of the night and threw off his annoying Kage robes, all he could think of was to find refuge in the arms of his girlfriend whom he hadn't seen for the last week due to the mission she had been assigned to, but Matsuri didn't give him a heartily welcome. She just clung tighter to a pillow and muttered a few words of an unintelligible refusal, grabbing his searching hand and pushing it away gently but firmly. Then she shifted with a sigh and slowly drifted to sleep, leaving him to fight his inner demons by himself.

She was just tired after the mission, and it was the middle of the night, for pity's sake! What did he expect? He tried to reason it all to himself but the logic couldn't overcome his emotions. Not this time. He pressed himself against her warm body again, rubbing at her buttocks with his hardening erection and nuzzling at the back of her neck just below the hair line. Matsuri waved her arm clumsily in his general direction, like she was driving away an obtrusive fly, and rolled onto her stomach.

"Gaara, please don't," she grumbled with her cheek still sank in the pillow. She raised her hand and blindly searched for him with an attempt to push him away.

The redhead gave up at last and rested on his back, with his forearms crossed under the back of his head. Next to the anger and pain he had felt earlier now he had to deal also with an unreleased tension. He glanced at the young woman who seemed to float away into deep slumber again, and tried to bottle up his emotions like he used to do in his childhood. He mastered the art of suppressing the unwelcome emotions to the perfect level but being forced to do that again right now only added to an overwhelming uproar in his mind. Taking one deep breath after another, he mocked at himself inwardly about his own selfishness and importuning attitude, but it didn't help either. Those years spent on indulging the slightest urge that had been surfacing his unstable mind, no matter if it was coming from Shukaku or himself, were also taking its toll. It was hard to admit, especially when he knew that he could do much better. That he had done better, when it was about foreign policy or home affairs of his village. It just seemed that the unique relationship he had with Matsuri, different from any other bond he had formed, could sometimes bring out the worst in him.

This conclusion, oddly enough, helped to put him at ease, and brought him to the next level of the self-knowledge. After Shukaku's extraction he worked hard to prove that all the spiteful, repellent traits of his personality had unrecoverably vanished, and, what he could see just now, he was trying to make himself a living hero statue. Unfortunately people supported his efforts, easily seduced by a prospect of having someone whose flawlessness and purity could be a constant in their life, and he had never noticed before how much it burdened him. His siblings knew the truth of course, knew that he was as human as they come, but they have never uttered a single word about what person he was trying to turn himself into.

Gaara rolled on his side, propped himself on the elbow and looked at Matsuri. Her head was comfortably settled on the flat pillow and the dark strands of her hair could be easily distinguished on the white pillowcase even in the darkness. He reached for them, twisting the soft wisp around his index finger.

Matsuri was also such a person once, a person who couldn't look behind the appearances, adoring him only due to his strength, coolness, eliteness and – the last but not least – handsomeness. Just one of his many fangirls, considered by him immature and unworthy of his attention, even if he had never expressed it openly to any of the enchanted girls. He didn't realize earlier why they were so annoying to him but now he knew. Even though he had been attempting to become more than a human then, this burden he had brought involuntarily upon himself slowly had become too much of a hindrance to bear, and the girls seemed to stand in a way of his initially unintentional yearning for a chance to be just himself, not a monster and definitely not a spotless angel.

He had been given this chance by a girl who he would never think would be able to do this. The girl who had been changed like many others, changed by the war. When they came back to Suna after a couple of months of warfare, the old Matsuri began to fade away slowly. She was still cheerful, carefree even, but there was a new look in her eyes, serious and sometimes haunted, and she definitely stopped hanging around with hordes of his other fangirls. The redhead didn't notice it at once since he was too busy with his work as a political leader, but mostly he was absorbed with the change that had occurred in himself. The encounter with his father and learning the truth about Yashamaru had caused almost as enormous turmoil in Gaara's feelings as his uncle's lies which led to the latter's death, but it turned out that it was much easier to steal the innocence, to betray the trust and break somebody's heart than to heal the wounds inflicted by said actions. The fear of vulnerability and rejection was still present in Gaara's heart, and he wondered if it was meant to stay there forever, but after a time it started to decrease considerably. Then he could breathe again, could visit Yashamaru's and his father's graves for the first time since the latter's funeral and by that time he began to feel the need to get closer to other people besides his siblings. After few years he had found himself involved in 'girls' issues', as Kankurou put it, and realized immediately that the person who had profoundly attracted his attention was Matsuri.

The redhead leaned over his girlfriend and brushed against her ear with his lips. Matsuri still lied motionless; her deep, regular breathing was a proof that her consciousness was still submerged in the realm of dreams, completely ignorant of his actions.

She turned him away; she added to his irritation that had been sparked by the last few hours during which he had to calmly listen to the preposterous demands of the foreign negotiators; she made the long-standing but quite forgotten agony reenter his mind; and finally, she simply hurt his pride. Human as they come, irrational or not, he couldn't leave it as it was, feeling compelled to take even a slightest revenge and confirm his dominance.

He lightly nibbled the soft lobe and Matsuri stirred sleepily, sighing. She raised her head a few inches from the pillow and let out an irked murmur but before she could complain any further Gaara whispered into her ear, "I'll wait until you ask then". Then he pulled back and slumped against the matress, trying to relax. The young woman slowly rolled on her back and turned her head to his direction, obviously surprised and trying to puzzle out his words. Gaara closed his eyes and slowly exhaled through his nose. He could hear the rustling of the sheets coming from his partner's direction but didn't look at her. Eventually the noises stopped and the silence reigned over the bedroom. Matsuri's breathing signaled she wasn't sleeping but Gaara didn't want to deliberate over what she was thinking. He meant what he had said earlier and now he just planned to wait for her move.

o0o0o0o

Matsuri was restless. She swept her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling her heartbeat grow unmistakably faster. The lump of heat lodged in her chest released warm, pulsating tendrils creeping up her neck and face until her cheeks burned, certainly red from the onslaught of blood.

She wanted him to be there already. She wanted him to come back quickly because the longer she waited the stronger jitters grew. She attempted to control herself but when she heard the sound of the door opening, this attempt failed immediately and to her dismay she could feel her hands trembling.

She shoved them behind her back and listened to the familiar sounds coming from the living room. The swish of fabric and the muffled thud when he came undone the straps and put the gourd on the floor; the further rustling which announced he took off his long-sleeved coat; and then almost inaudible steps, like it was a cat walking. Even if she knew it was a habit drilled into him since a long time ago, sometimes she still wished he wasn't sneaking like that, especially recently.

The steps were near and near, and eventually Gaara entered the kitchen, quickly scanning the place with his unblinking eyes. It was another habit from times when he had to stay constantly alert, ready for the next assassination attempt which could come at any time. Even if he had ever thought about getting rid of those habits, it became pointless after he took Kazekage's seat, and Matsuri noticed she began to start such habits herself. Probably good thing, taking into consideration that she was Kazekage's girlfriend now.

She smiled when their eyes met, her musings abandoned in a flash. "Matsuri," he uttered and her heart was immediately filled with a deep gratitude and love.

"How was the training?" she inquired, her voice miraculously not shaking, and poured the water into the mug. She could tell he'd been training intensely, as always. The bangs were plastered to his forehead and his skin was covered with small sweatdrops. His net shirt was wet and there were also wet stains on the waistband of his pants, where the sweat had soaked.

"I'm still not able to master this technique," Gaara answered and took the mug from her hands. Matsuri was aware he meant the new technique he had started to develop the other day but she knew better than patronizingly comment on his words. The redhead put the mug to his mouth and drank the water greedily, his chin raising higher and higher. Matsuri watched with fascination his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, while he was savouring the life-giving liquid. Suddenly Gaara glanced at her from the corner of his eye and she flinched nervously, looking away at once and trying to mask her embarrassment with a weak smile.

"What is it?" he asked, putting the mug away and wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Matsuri glanced at him again and shook her head.

"No, it-it's nothing," she chirped, forcing another flimsy smile onto her mouth with a hope he didn't read her, a hope she knew perfectly well was futile. The ability to see through people's masks and find out what they wanted to keep secret was essential for every shinobi, but Gaara brought it almost to the superhuman level. Matsuri shifted restlessly under the steady gaze of the unblinking aquamarine eyes, close to regretting she had fallen in love with such a troublesome man. The only good thing was that he was rarely using his skill against his best friends, and kept to himself whatever he could learn with his unique ability.

The redhead nodded in silence and turned back, making for the exit. Matsuri stood motionless, mesmerized, letting the scent of his fresh sweat overcome her senses with every breath, the pheromones' invasion turning her on immediately. Gaara stopped just in front of the door and glanced back at her.

"I'm going to take a shower," he announced with his usual, indifferent tone. Matsuri's heart pounded against her ribs and suddenly her lips became dry. She was sure her expression was lascivious but she wasn't going to hide it, not when she was waiting for his next words, for the invitation to join him, what she would have done with pleasure. But the words she had expected and yearned to hear didn't come and Gaara just left the kitchen, calmly walking towards the bathroom.

Matsuri swallowed audibly and pressed her hand against her chest, sensing the frantic beating under her fingers. The disappointment, which she had just experienced, lit the profound irritation in her and made her growl lowly. She was more than certain that he wanted her company, that he missed physical intimacy as much as she did, so why didn't he say it? Why did he leave, pretending not to care?

The answer could be that he really didn't care, that he didn't want to touch her anymore, but Matsuri knew it wasn't true. Even after two years the physical displays of affection, sex in particular, still seemed to be a source of an endless fascination to him, and when the initial diffidence had disappeared, both of them were shocked by the lust that proved to bloom inside them, the lust that still seemed to be insatiable.

No, Gaara definitely didn't stop craving for her, so the answer must have been what she had thought it was from the very beginning. He waited for her to ask, exactly like he had said those two weeks ago. He waited for her to ask, and the only problem was she couldn't bring herself to do this. When she realized he was not going to go easy on her, she started to make attempts to ask, but to her amazement she found herself unable to choke out the words like 'kiss', 'touch' or 'sex' in his presence. She had laughed at herself, twenty-four years old tough kunoichi, but it quickly turned out not to be a laughing matter when the desire increased and she had to resort to old, long forgotten ways of releasing the sexual tension.

Matsuri left the kitchen, reasoning with herself like she was doing often recently, and approached the bathroom door with hesitation. She could clearly hear the sound of the water splashing and the images, which overran her mind at once, were enough to turn her knees into melted butter. She only needed a few words... A few right words to go inside and express what she actually wanted. Maybe play a seductress? _Hello handsome one, can I join you? There's so much space in here..._ No, it didn't sound like her at all. Then maybe a mere companion? _Man, I want to join you. Don't you think we didn't have a shower together for such a looong time?_ Nah, too childish and naive. Then maybe a slut? _Hey Gaara, what d'you think about the blowjob in the shower?_ Urgh, defnitely not. Then what? _Uh, Gaara, can I__—__I mean, I'd like to, um, join you and... you know, I... _Pathetic. She wasn't a bashful teenager any longer, for pity's sake, was she?

Wait, has she ever been a bashful teenager? As far as she remembered, she had no problems then to say her opinion outloud. "Gaara-sama is quiet, strong, cool, hot, elite..." She had been hopeless, really, but bold nonetheless. Much bolder than now, as it seemed. Not that she wanted to change back into her old self but she genuinely wished she could borrow some of that boldness to support her now in this insufferable situation. Since she apparently wasn't able to do that, she had to find another solution. She needed to analyse her own reaction and pin down the most important factor, which had been preventing her from getting her urges satisfied.

The sound of the running water ceased and Matsuri jumped five feet high, her thoughts abruptly interrupted. If he had left the bathroom now and had seen her eavesdropping on the other side of the door like she was a slimy, unsatisfied pervert, she wouldn't be able to look him in the eye for another two weeks, or maybe even longer. The young woman quickly tip-toed towards the kitchen, her bare feet not making any noise on the smooth clay floor. She sat at the table and reached for one of the prickly pear fruits piled up in the bowl. She peeled the outer skin carefully to remove the spines, and plunged her teeth into the luscious pulp with delight.

"We're going to Kankurou's place at seven, right?" the voice uttered from behind her back and Matsuri blenched, letting out a surprised cry; the juice poured down her chin.

"Yes," she answered, examining the purple spots on her shirt, where the juice had streaked. She gnawed at the half-eaten fruit with a sigh, wishing she didn't have on herself one of her most favourite light blue shirts.

The shinobi shouldn't let herself to be startled in this way but Gaara didn't comment on it. He only took a takeaway salted tongue she had ordered for him earlier and settled on the chair at the opposite side of the table. Matsuri winced slightly and finished eating the fruit at a rapid pace. She literally hated the salted tongue and was not able to understand how it was possible that people could fall so low to put that thing into their mouths. But until she didn't have to cook it for him, she could reluctantly accept that love of her life had such a profound liking for the food she considered to be extremely disgusting.

The kunoichi pulled her chair back and made for the door, casting a quick glance at Gaara's profile before she left. His wet bangs began to curl slightly and the drops of water hovered at its tips. A single thin trickle went down his temple and cheekbone and soaked into the towel, which was hanging loosely over his bare shoulders. The sight itself would be really delicious, if there was not a salted tongue mixed into it, definitely able to extinguish even the strongest passion imaginable. Matsuri pursed her lips and headed for the bathroom, preparing to wash away the stains from her clothing.

**The end of part 1.**


	2. Chapter 2

Motto: _Homo sum; humani nihil a me alienum puto._

o0o0o0o

So, here it is. The second part ^^'

No betareading so far. Please, let me know if you find any mistakes.

**Today's the special day, and on this particular day, I wish for only one thing: my most favourite "Naruto" character surviving the war and living happily ever after :D**

Warning: adult themes, graphic content.

Enjoy.

o0o0o0o

_Oh, do it all night, do it with me,_

_I'll take to heaven if you make me feel free,_

_Baby, do it tonight, do it all right,_

_Just take me and shake me till I burn up inside._

E-Rotic, "Do It All Night"

**~~Until you ask part2~~**

Kankurou's place seemed to be crowded, even if there were only four guests there, namely Sari, Temari, Matsuri and Gaara. The party had started in puppeteer's room, called 'lair' by Temari. The wind mistress quickly started complaining about 'not being able to catch even the slightest breeze', and demanded for them to move to the terrace out of her own room on the second floor. Sari happily agreed, and Kankurou didn't have any other choice than to follow his girlfriend, aware that the time was quickly coming when he would be bound to leave his favourite underground room if he didn't want to be dumped. The thought didn't lift his spirits, and he grumbled something about 'being treated cruel on his own birthday'. Sari clung to his arm and gave him quick peck on the cheek, whispering something into his ear. Whatever it was, the puppeteer glanced at her with his eyebrow raised and almost an imperceptible smirk creeping up his lips.

They climbed the stairs until they reached the second floor where the siblings had their apartments. Only Temari's rooms were inhabited recently. Kankurou always preferred the workshop to his cosy bedroom and kept all his belongings there, but after he had started dating Sari, he was mostly staying in her house. His apartment was still being taken care of to make the impression he was living there, and just in case he needed a simple place to stay. Gaara's old apartment was also completely furnished and kept clean, like the occupant had just left and was supposed to come back after a time. It served a purpose to confuse an eventual enemy; besides, it was good to have an extra place to hide when the Kazekage would have needed it.

They've been reaching Temari's room, talking and enjoying each other's company, when Sari slowed her pace down a bit. Temari opened the door and let the guests inside. Gaara and Kankurou walked into the room resolutely, and Matsuri followed them, when Sari brushed against her side with her elbow as if by accident, and whispered into her ear: "Stop staring at Gaara's bum. You make even Kankurou blush." Then she went away carefreely, following Temari's impatient gesture, and Matsuri could only do the same, desperately trying to fight the embarrassment and cool down her inflamed cheeks. The four headed to the terrace, not paying much attention to the young woman, who had separated from them furtively and sought her refuge in the bathroom.

Matsuri locked the door carefully and leaned over the sink to rinse her face with a nice, cold water, pressing her palms to her cheeks. Sari's audacious comment shocked her and left her all jittery, since she really didn't have any idea that she was staring, especially in such manner. She consumed quite a lot of alcohol this evening and it must have loosened up her self-control. She only hoped that Gaara didn't notice. He also had a good deal of drinks and was considerately relaxed, but obviously not as much as she was.

Not having a good reason for further procrastination, Matsuri wiped her face with the towel and took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, which didn't quite succeed. She joined her friends on the terrace, where the chairs and the table were already set, and Temari could savour an icy wind coming from above the sand dunes. The days in Sunagakure were distinctly hot, but nights, as it was natural in the desert, could be just as much piercing cold. All villagers, including the four young shinobi and their Kage, were used to the extreme temperature variations and seemed not to even notice that the night was getting colder and colder, but it could also be an effect of the drinks. Consuming an alcohol was not a frequent indulgence in Suna, since it could cause a profound dehydration, but on a few occassions they were willing to accept that disadvantage to let their bodies relax and minds drift.

It didn't take long when Kankurou mentioned he felt like drinking again. Temari warned him in a maternal manner about an awful hangover, which was inevitable to plague him the next day, but the puppeteer didn't seem to mind. Matsuri thought he had probably developed better immunity to various poisons since his puppets were literally dripping with it, and that must have been the reason of his unconcern.

"I'm going to get drinks and snacks," Sari announced and pulled herself to a standing position. Kankurou protested and she grasped his arms, shoving him down onto his chair with a grin. "This is your birthday, remember?" she said and turned to Matsuri. "Come on, you're going to help me."

The words uttered with an authoritative tone caught Matsuri off-guard, and she could only nod and raise to her feet clumsily. Sari already headed towards the door, and Matsuri shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She realized with a frown that her friend managed to throw her off balance again, and it annoyed her. She didn't want to walk all that way down, and then climb upstairs again, but it would be a good chance to rebuke Sari in private for her previous perplexing comment, and Matsuri was going to take advantage of it.

From the corner of her eye she could see Gaara standing up as well, obviously willing to accompany them to Kankurou's 'lair'. Sari stopped for a moment, gazing back at them, and Matsuri was sure her friend sent her a meaningful glance before she resumed walking.

"It's okay," Matsuri said in a hushed tone and cleared her throat. "We'll be here in no time," she added a bit louder, her voice on the verge of plea. Gaara studied her face briefly and slowly nodded, but didn't sit down. The kunoichi caught up with her friend and both of them silently went down, passing by a few ANBU guards. Finally, they reached the puppet workshop in the basement, and Sari carefully closed the door behind them.

"Okay," she said with anticipation, her face curious. "Come on, spill it."

"What?" Matsuri asked, taken aback. "Spill what? That I'm going to choke you if you do something like that again?"

"Meaning?" Sari said innocently, brushing aside the tools and pieces of wood lying on the workbench until they fell down onto the floor. Then she settled on the bench and watched her friend with a smirk.

"Meaning your comment, of course," Matsuri snarled, leaning against the door with her arms crossed, and glaring at the other young woman.

"So it was my fault that you were devouring him with your eyes as if you wanted to rape him?" Sari remarked mischievously, but her irritating expression began to fade away quickly, replaced by the more serious, caring one. The long-haired woman leaned forward, furrowing her brow slightly. "Listen, I didn't come here to argue. I wanted to ask what's wrong."

Matsuri let out a long exhalation, suddenly feeling very tired. She slumped against the door and slid down, until she sat on the dusty floor. She threw her head back and closed her eyes.

"What is it? You're not feeling well?" Sari jumped from the bench and crouched next to her friend, apparently worried.

Matsuri shook her head, her lids still shut. She didn't raise the touchy topic with Sari before since she considered it a kind of betrayal. There was someone else involved in the entire problem, and she knew that Gaara, being this private person as he was, definitely wouldn't be content if she conveyed their secrets. But it seemed that she was reaching her limit; that's why she felt quite relieved she could talk about it with her friend, betrayal or not.

"I need you to promise me something," Matsuri uttered at last, her chest rising and then falling with a deep sigh. Opening her eyes, she looked at her friend earnestly. "First, promise me that you will not tell anyone what you've heard from me. Anyone, and I mean Kankurou as well. He would have teased me about it to no end, and Gaara would be angry. Okay?"

Sari scanned her friend's face and slowly nodded. She scraped the sawdust away and sat on the floor in front of Matsuri. "Gaara doesn't get angry," she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. "At least he doesn't throw a tantrum like Kankurou."

"Yeah," Matsuri agreed, the corners of her mouth upturned. "He only looks at you—"

"—like this," Sari ended with a low voice and straightened up her torso, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at the other young woman from under her brows with a grave expression. Matsuri pursed her lips, but it didn't take long when two friends were giggling like mad with tears escaping their eyes, unable to catch their breaths.

"I... can't... take it anymore!" Sari howled, pressing her hand against her stomach, trying to wipe tears with the back of her other palm. "Matsuri... stop!"

"Stop yourself!", Matsuri laughed with her mind overwhelmed by a happy fuzzy feeling. Suddenly, she could believe the solution of her problem was within her reach, and it filled her with an anxious anticipation. "Okay, so there's a second thing you have to promise to me," she said, waiting for her friend to calm down.

"Yes?" Sari's ragged breathing began to grow steady, and she stared at Matsuri with her interest piqued.

"You will not laugh at me," Matsuri leaned back and the giggle died in her throat. "It is kind of... private thing, and it's difficult for me. I know it may look stupid. I can't believe I'm so hopeless myself. But it seems I just can't do that and I don't know why. I tried and tried but—"

"Matsuri," Sari interrupted, her voice soothing. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I want to have sex with him but I don't know how to ask!" Matsuri choked out desperately, and Sari's eyes widened. A light blush overcame her cheeks when she nodded slowly and blinked, obviously trying to digest the words she had just heard.

"So you... he... I mean..." Sari breathed deeply and rubbed her temples. She looked a bit bemused, but certainly didn't laugh and it made Matsuri feel even more relieved. "Okay," Sari said briskly and nodded to herself with a vigorous expression, "Let's start from the beginning. How come you have to ask him in the first place?"

"He said he will wait until I ask," Matsuri answered miserably. "And I would have never believed if someone told me earlier that I'm not able to ask my boyfriend to have sex with me." She shook her head to get rid of the dazed feeling, and realized she had no problem at all with talking about sex with Sari. Interesting.

"He drove you to that state on purpose?" Sari wondered, raising her eyebrow. "Who could have thought... You sure this pervy person we're talking about is Gaara?"

Matsuri crooked her leg and immediately straightened it, aiming in Sari's direction. Sari dodged the kick and waved her hands defensively.

"You're not helping at all," Matsuri growled and rubbed her eyes. She was getting tired since the hour was rather late, and the thought that they were hiding here for quite a long time nagged at the back of her mind. "I hoped he would break first but he didn't," she admitted. "I don't know what has got into him."

"You two are playing really strange games," Sari said with a short chuckle, and continued before her friend could get irked again. "Tell me, how many times before have you had to ask him to, uh, make love to you?"

Matsuri pondered over it but nothing came to her mind. She probably couldn't remember each and every one situation, but even the brief survey demonstrated that she had never initiated sex. All she could do was to give her partner signs, which he quickly learnt to read, but it wasn't even close to asking. She was giving those signs recently as well, but Gaara consistently ignored them.

"I take it as 'not even once'" Sari leaned forward and put a hand on Matsuri's knee. "You see, you're considerately lacking practice. Plus, it seems you're rather shy under that tough attitude drilled into you with all our shinobi training. It makes everything more difficult. But I personally think most girls have similar troubles... well, maybe except of Temari."

Matsuri's head was spinning, and she fought it with all her might. It would be nice to catch a large share of the chilling night air; she was certain it would help her dispose of the tipsiness in no time. She really appreciated all that Sari's insight, but it didn't bring her any closer to the desired outcome. Then Sari's last words hit her, and she stared at her friend with her mouth gaping.

"You mean... you too?"

"Ahaha..." Sari laughed, disconcerted, putting her hand at the back of her neck. "Sort of..." She made a stern face and hastily added: "But I found out how to cope with it!"

Matsuri leaned forward, staring at her friend intently.

"And?"

Sari's answer was short. "You need an alcohol," she said and Matsuri furrowed.

"You mean I have to make him drunk?"

"Are you sure it would guarantee that he would be perfectly able to do what you want him to do?" Sari asked, eyeing the other young woman curiously, as if she was calculating the amount of the alcohol circulating in Matsuri's veins. "I said _you_ need an alcohol, silly. Only a little. It'll help you relax. Take a few drinks before he comes home and... you know. He's all yours."

Matsuri wondered how come such trick had never come to her mind. She could tell it would work for her. The drinks made the rational part of her mind kind of subdued, letting carnal urges take the lead. The said urges were roaring inside her even now, and she wondered if Gaara felt the same way. Well, there was no question to it. She was more than certain that he did, and the only question was how to finish this stupid 'game', as Sari put it, and enjoy what both of them yearned for.

The palm touching her arm dispersed her thoughts.

"Come on," Sari said, grinning. "Let's not make them wait any longer." She handed Matsuri two bottles and looked her in the face. "You don't look as miserable as before," she commented, winking. "Seems you're ready to test your new strategy on him."

o0o0o0o

Matsuri left the bathroom and glanced into the living room. In the dim light of the wall lamp she could see Gaara wasn't there; obviously he went to the bed already. The kunoichi straightened her nightshirt nervously and quietly headed to the kitchen, where she took a bottle of wine from the cupboard and started to work arduously on the cork. She didn't have much practice in opening such bottles since she and Gaara were rarely drinking, but the determination was, as it turned out, the nice substitute of an experience, and the cork finally left the bottle neck with a loud pop.

She sat down and poured some of the red liquid into the glass. Most of the grogginess she had felt before had already vanished and she needed to get it back, at least the small part of it. The very act of sipping luscious sweet wine had a certain psychological effect, and when the warmth began to spread inside her stomach, she could feel her resolve strengthening during this self-made ritual. The only thing that was bothering her was the question if she was sentenced to drink each time she would want to approach her boyfriend. It wasn't quite a nice prospect, but Matsuri decided to leave it at the moment. She took the last nip and stood up, leaving the opened bottle, the cork pierced with the corkscrew and the glass on the table. Cleaning the mess was the last thing on her mind now, and she walked towards the exit, only to come to a halt just after crossing the threshold.

"What are you doing?" Gaara asked, glancing into the kitchen over her shoulder. He frowned when he spotted the bottle on the table, and his gaze returned to her face. "Don't you think you had enough this evening?" he commented, his expression tinted with the mix of an astonishment and amusement.

Matsuri shook her head, swallowing, her eyes never leaving his. Now she could fully appreciate Sari's advice, because her nervousness really seemed to be suppressed. She stepped towards him and took his palm into hers; her heartbeat quickened immediately at the touch of his skin.

"What is it?" he asked, intertwining his fingers with hers. The look of determination was vivid in her eyes, and the redhead shuddered slightly, when Matsuri raised his hand and pressed it against her cheek. The quiet sigh escaped her mouth and she closed her eyes, obviously lost in the sensation. Gaara skimmed the smooth skin of her cheek with his thumb, unintentionally brushing her upper lip, and Matsuri's eyelids flickered open, the action accompanied by a soft, surprised gasp. She looked like a shy girl she had once been, those ten years ago, and Gaara found the sight hilarious, endearing and irritating, all at once. When he had started the ordeal two weeks earlier, he had never expected to discover this new aspect of their relationship. In the beginning, it had been interesting in the first place to see Matsuri's disorientation and watch her tentative investigating gestures. Then her desire undoubtedly grew and its signs were impossible to overlook, but he ignored them just as he was doing now, curious where it would lead them. Now his impatience was reaching its peak, not even mentioning his own needs. And, as it seemed, Matsuri's needs as well. Sometimes he deliberated over finishing this odd game but his pride didn't let him, plus he just wanted to win, and now it seemed that restraining himself eventually paid off.

"What is it?" he echoed, his voice lower and more seductive than he intended. Matsuri licked her lips uncertainly, wondering if he really wanted to hear certain words from her. Well, he himself hadn't been literally asking each time. Most times he had just inititated sex in silence, letting his actions speak for themselves, and Matsuri decided to follow his example.

"Guess," she whispered, and reached for the switch, plunging them into darkness. She put her hands on his naked chest, feeling the frantic hammering of his heart, vaguely shocked by her own unusual boldness, but in the same time utterly content. She stood on her toes; actually he wasn't much taller than her, but she wanted to gain the best access possible. That thought was also exotic for her, since she proved to be rather submissive before, but it didn't matter now, when her lips were slowly descending upon his.

A kiss elicited a surprised gasp from him, and their lips started to brush against each other leisurely, tentatively. Gaara could feel she was trembling, and he was aware he was trembling as well. Matsuri's hands met at the back of his neck and she pressed her body against his, uttering diminutive moans, which were growing louder and louder with every minute. He clasped her tightly and let out a delighted groan when her probing tongue slid along his lower lip.

Matsuri couldn't believe her body was able to contain such a need. Her legs were barely carrying her, while her mind floated easily into the nice emptiness, leaving her half-conscious, to be led by pure instincts. It reminded her of their beginnings, when the lust was just as overwhelming, but she hadn't known then what awaited her. Now she knew perfectly well, and she couldn't help but shiver with anticipation.

His lips on hers were soft and slick, their steady, purposeful movements sending erotic tingles down her entire body, making her helplessly crave for more. She could feel her own lips swelling from the inflow of the heated blood under the constant caress, the sensation of skin rubbing against skin melting her to the core. Panting, she pushed on him with her entire body, savouring the feeling of a certain hardness pressed against her abdomen. Gaara slightly jerked his hips forward; the mounting tension drove him to pull his palm back from her cheek and slide it into her hair. Matsuri responded with a throaty moan, tilting her head in an invitation to deepen the kiss, and he immediately complied, drawing a pleading mewl from her mouth.

He had won; Matsuri had broken first. It took her forever to approach him, but now he could get his reward for enduring the sexual abstinence for two damn weeks; three, if he would include the time when she had been on the mission. The thought had been still irritating him but now, when she was finally in his arms, warm, soft and delicious, the anger was promptly subsiding, replaced by tenderness and affection.

The feeling of her petite frame snugly pressed against his own was so familiar, lavishing on him the exquisite certainty that all his needs will be thoroughly met. Matsuri writhed marvellously under his touch, and the movement itself alongside with the flagrant moans she was emitting, muffled by his kisses, were the proof how much she wanted him. Not that she hasn't been passionate before; he had learnt already how to strip her of the bashfulness and render her shameless, but she had never seemed to be so desperate before.

The redhead let his other hand, resting on the small of her back, slip lower until his palm fully cupped her buttock. Matsuri reacted with a short series of gasps, when he began gently knead the resilient flesh, and he thought he could distinguish his own name in her never ending whimpers, but the notion hastily receded when his girlfriend mirrored his own action with bringing her hands onto his shoulder blades, and then shifting them down along his spine until they reached his buttocks and grabbed them in a covetous manner, pressing his body into hers even closer than before.

In fact, Matsuri was almost breathlessly, and just as unintelligibly, uttering his name time after time, briefly wondering how come someone's name could sound so sensual; with the long 'aa' at the beginning and shorter 'a' at the end, his name sounded so absolutely erotic, like the long moan, especially while being uttered several times without a break, just like she was doing now.

When his lips moved along her jawline and searched the sensitive spot under her ear, Matsuri could feel her legs finally giving up. She stepped back unsteadily, still clutching to him not to let their bodies separate, until her back met the wall. She leaned against the filed adobe with a small sigh of relief, which inconspicuously mingled into their hot breaths, and lolled her head back, realizing to the full extent the extremity of her need.

Gaara gently suckled at her pulse, still pinning her hips with his and sporadically thrusting forward, each time eliciting a trembling whimper from Matsuri, who clawed at his arms now like they were a lifeline. In his mind the image of their comfortable bedroom fought the assaulting urge to pull down his pants, lift up his partner's nightshirt and enter her without further delay. But the clay under their feet, even if smooth, was definitely hard and cold, especially at night, and he didn't want to cause Matsuri any unnecessary discomfort, so he moved back reluctantly, earning a disappointed yelp from his girlfriend.

„Come," he breathed into the darkness, and headed for the bedroom, still holding Matsuri's hand. The young woman followed him, her legs wobbling. When they reached the dimly lit living room, Gaara glanced at her from the corner of his eye, reveling in the adorable sight. Matsuri's hair was disheveled and her lips reddened and swollen, and the characteristic pinky tint was adorning her face.

Matsuri caught his gaze and pulled her hair behind her ear in a shy manner, exposing even more of the blushed skin, her palm tightening its grip upon his own. Her entire body throbbed in the rhythm of her frantic breathing, filled with only one desire: to join with her most beloved person.

Eventually, they entered their bedroom, where the light was positively brighter, making them blink in surprise. But the trained shinobi's eyes are used to such variations so it didn't take them long to be able to proceed.

Gaara sat down on the bed and gently drew her closer, until she could settle herself on his lap. Matsuri straddled him with her thighs spread wide, and threw her arms around his neck, moving forward until their bodies touched. With a gulp, she brushed against the tip of his nose with her own, letting her eyelids shut and parting her lips in anticipation. She could feel her lover's hot breath on her skin but his mouth didn't meet hers. He placed a delicate kiss on her jawline, then another, lightly nudging at her chin with his nose to make her tilt her head. His fingertips played with the shoulder straps of her nightshirt, and Matsuri was sure she would die from the feverish throbbing that ran through her body. Every stroke and touch of Gaara's fingers was doing the unspeakable things to her, things stripping her mind of its rational part, and she leaned her head back, entangling her fingers into his hair when he suddenly assaulted the side of her neck, nibbling, sucking and licking. His hands seized her buttocks in a firm grasp and the young woman trembled, her fingertips sinking into his skin. „Gaara...!" she panted helplessly with her eyes screwed shut and her head thrown back. „Ahhh... like that, just like that!" In a response the redhead brough his hands to the shoulder straps of her nightshirt and slipped them from her shoulders with his thumbs. His lips began to travel down her neck and Matsuri lifted herself to a kneeling position. The nightshirt slipped down with that movement, exposing her naked chest, and she encircled her partner's head with her arms, drawing his face close to her breasts.

Gaara touched the skin above her breast with the tip of his nose, listening to her impatient panting. Matsuri's body was slightly arched, waiting for the caress, which was still not coming. The redhead took a great delight in driving her to the edge like that; to turn her on even more, he let his hands slide down along her legs, reveling in the sensation of the soft skin immediately growing hot under the touch of his fingers. His partner whimpered pleadingly, when he started to brush the sensitive skin of her inner thighs with his thumbs, and he finally let his mouth gently lock around the small nub.

Matsuri uttered the trembling, breathy gasp that was absolutely enthralling to him, and grabbed a fistful of his hair, as if determined not to let him go even for a second. Gaara hissed warningly, but when his girlfriend didn't react in any way, he lolled his head back and gently grabbed her wrist, pulling her palm back, while still touching her thigh with his other hand. "Matsuri," he whispered hoarsely, "You're hurting me."

The young woman looked down at him with half-lidded, dazed eyes, and the redhead wasn't even certain if she understood at all what he had said. "Gaara..." she only said in an imploring voice, clenching her palms upon his shoulders. His name tumbled from her lips so tenderly and yet so greedily that it instantly turned up his inner heat many degrees higher; his arm snaked around her waist, and his other hand slid up her thigh, closer to the centre of heat emanating from her. The redhead let his fingertips play with the soft curls between Matsuri's legs, and she froze while her breathing grew hitched in an instant. Gaara lustfully gloated at her acquiescent expression, delving his fingers a little deeper, until he could feel the softest flesh beneath, its hot wetness a delicious promise of the future fulfilment. Matsuri bit her lips, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but she couldn't stop the scream from escaping her throat when he slightly jerked his fingers, lighter than a feather's touch brushing her most sensitive spot. The grip of her hands on his shoulders tightened when he continued the gentle caress, rhytmically shifting his fingertips back and forth, up and down. Matsuri was completely at his mercy now, and when he brought his face closer to her breast, grazing her nipple with his teeth, the shaking voice in which she had uttered his name made him so hard that it ached. His body urged to join with hers, but in the same time he wanted to prolong those sweet moments of torturing his girlfriend forever, the time when he could revel in the sight of her baring her most personal attributes to him and, what was even more endearing and captivating, baring her very soul to him, letting herself completely go in his presence without any fear or hesitation.

So many years had passed since he dared to admit outloud for the first time that he wanted to be needed by someone. After taking Kazekage's position his dream had become true in part, since the villagers eventually relied on him and trusted him. But what Matsuri gave him was completely different kind of trust, which could heal the deepest wounds of the soul like nothing else, and the gratitude rised within his heart, while he passionately embraced his most precious person.

Without letting Matsuri go, Gaara leaned backwards, gently pulling his partner with him until his back met the sheets and Matsuri rested on his chest. Their lips met again in a kiss wilder than before, and both of them knew they wouldn't last long. Matsuri was the first who broke the kiss, raising herself to a kneeling position to get rid of the irritating nightshirt that was still draped over her hips, while Gaara decided to strip off his pants. Both stark naked stared at each other, embarrassed and mesmerized at the same time. Matsuri couldn't help but still feel fascinated even if she had seen Gaara nude so many times before, and it wasn't caused by the strange paleness of his complexion. What was the most surprising, and oddly looking on a shinobi, was the flawlessness of his skin; while her own body, just like other jounins' bodies, was marked with numerous scars of minor burns, cuts and lacerations, Gaara, as a result of wielding his no longer automatic but always invincible sand shield, never suffered the direct hit, with only one exception – the lightning attack that once pierced through his left shoulder, leaving the star shaped scar right below his collar-bone.

Matsuri brushed the scar with the pads of her fingers. She didn't know much more about how he got that particular wound, but there were more many things he wasn't telling her. Sometimes it annoyed her and she felt like he didn't trust her, but she knew that he was just being Gaara. She wished he would decide to lower the barriers he had set around his heart someday, and let her even closer, but there was not much hope it would ever happen. Whenever she was thinking about it, she felt disheartened and she had to put a certain conscious effort to quietly accept his aloofness and not pursue the matter, believing that Gaara, even if not sharing with her many details of what he had experienced in his not very long but definitely hard life, still truly and deeply loved her.

The young woman put a light kiss on the scar, and the redhead shivered slightly, immediately encircling her with his arms. "I love you," he whispered into her ear as if reading her thoughts, and the corners of Matsuri's mouth curved upwards at this perfect timing. "I love you too," she breathed into his shoulder, leaning forward and putting her palm against his chest, her thumb slowly brushing his skin in a circular motion. Soon, her lips descended upon his collar-bone, and she tentatively licked the scarred skin below, pressing against his shoulder with her other hand to make him lean backwards.

Gaara complied, licking his suddenly dry lips, and Matsuri turned her head and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to the frantic heartbeat. Her other hand leisurely shifted down his side while the young woman lifted her head a bit and nuzzled at the redhead's sternum with the tip of her nose, inhaling deeply until her nostrils filled with the familiar, exciting scent. Closing her eyes, she could experience once again the fleeting sensation that she just had been carried into the heart of the desert, where there was only merciless, blazing heat, and the suffocating waft of the white-hot sand.

Pressing her body against his, Matsuri continuously travelled down his stomach, leaving behind the trail of the wet kisses and listening to her lover's frantic breathing. The closer she was to her destination, the more Gaara's body was arched and his muscles stiff. Matsuri propped herself on the elbow, putting the last kiss on his hip before her fingers firmly locked around the most ardent part of his body. Her lips swiftly followed, the action eliciting a low purring sound from the redhead's throat, and the teasing game began. It was not too long before Matsuri could catch from the corner of her eye the sight of Gaara's fingers clawing at the sheets. He threw his head back so she could see his expression no more, and let out a gasping moan that sent a chill down her spine, racking her sensitive nerves until the sensation released into another inflow of the hot wetness between her legs. She didn't stop though, continuing her erotic ministrations, until her partner whimpered in an imploring voice, "Matsuri, please stop."

She slowly pushed herself from the matress and rolled on her back, resting next to her beau. Her body ached for the continuation, but all she could do until Gaara controlled himself was to touch herself. With her thighs parted slightly, she let her hand slip down her stomach until it reached the point that direly needed her profound attention. Closing her eyes, she imagined those were Gaara's fingers gently moving up and down her core, and soon helpless mewls and gasps tore out from her throat, while she completely lost herself in the sensation. When her hand had been unexpectedly pried away from the spot, Matsuri almost choked. Flickering her eyes open, she raised her head from the sheets to see her partner kneeling next to her, still holding her wrist in his delicate yet firm grasp.

" Gaara, what is it?" she pleaded before her mind cleared a bit from the daze, and she remembered they were supposed to finish their wonderful encounter in much more satisfying manner. Anyway, Gaara didn't answer her incoherent question. He released her hand and grasped her knees instead, spreading her legs wide and leaning forward until his face descended upon her. It all happened too quickly for Matsuri to keep up the pace. The only thing she knew was that the pleasure seeped back into her nerves, increasing to the point where it was almost too intense to bear. The young woman collapsed onto the matress, barely aware her mouth had gone on its own, spilling the unintelligible phrases, majorly consisting of 'I love you,' 'Yes, just like that' and 'More'. The perfection was too close now, and Matsuri grabbed the fistfuls of the bedsheet, refusing to stop the ecstatic tremor that ran through her body. As it turned out, Gaara had kept a keen ear opened to her reactions, because he moved away swiftly, eliciting a disappointed whimper from her, which quickly faded when he crawled on top of her and covered her lips with his. Promptly, Matsuri reached down to complete the final act, but the redhead beat her to it, and both of them screamed in unison at the long-awaited heavenly sensation.

Knowing each and every step of this primal dance, they effortlessly established the perfect rhythm, which would unmistakably lead them to the finest and most delicious oblivion. It lasted only few minutes but seemed to be an eternity; and still, it lasted an eternity but seemed to be only few minutes, if only those terms could mean anything while the entire world was vanishing into the blazing, all-consuming fire.

"Gaara!" Matsuri panted with her head lolled back. "I'm—"

The redhead groaned into her shoulder since he was almost there as well, and it was definitely too early for his liking. He didn't want to release yet, to pull back and break the sweet connection, so he forced himself to move slower. Matsuri's eyes snapped open, and she dug her nails into his back.

"Don't!" she cried, biting her lower lip and writhing under him. "Gaara, don't!"

He shook his head wordlessly, his breathing laboured. He found it so hard to focus on controlling himself, and Matsuri's pleading moans weren't helpful at all, but he wasn't going to give up. Screwing his eyes shut, the redhead momentarily stopped moving at all, although he did not expect it would be too much for his girlfriend. With a disappointed yelp, Matsuri wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled aside violently, making him topple on his side. Naturally, he slipped out from her with that movement, eliciting frustrated groans from them both. Panting, Matsuri pushed vehemently against his shoulder, attempting to lay him down and straddle him at the same time, while he fought to shove her down onto the mattress again. For several minutes they struggled with each other, clenching their teeth, and only their heavy breathing and whimpers of hastily increasing frustration disrupted the silence. Neither of them intended to give up and, eventually, they decided to play unfair. The kunoichi bit into Gaara's shoulder, and he hissed, wincing. Instinctively, he released his hold on her and touched the sore spot. Matsuri promptly put her palms against his chest and pushed forward with all her might. Surprised, he leaned backwards, resting on his elbows, while she swiftly straddled him, trying to pin him down with her weight. Naturally, it wasn't enough to stop him, and he quickly recovered from initial bewilderment, sitting up and gripping the huge fistful of her hair.

"Awww!" Matsuri cried with a painful grimace, while he mercilessly pulled back until she arched her spine, her slender fingers trying in vain to make him open his fist. "Gaara, what the hell are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same," he drawled, secretly relishing his small revenge. "Lie still or I will restrain you with my sand!"

Matsuri stopped her striving and sent him an indignant scowl.

"You wouldn't," she breathed.

Well, of course, he wouldn't, but she'd better stay ignorant of that fact.

"I would," he threatened.

"You wouldn't!" she insisted, her voice carrying a small, almost imperceptible anxiety. The redhead didn't answer since the distraction worked as planned, and all he needed to do was release his grip all of a sudden. With a gasp, she lost her balance and collapsed aside. Letting out a grumpy moan, she massaged her scalp, trying to sit up and slanting a furious glance at her partner. Since he previously tried to deny her the utmost reward, she was growing more and more desperate, while the void in her both physique and psyche burned to be filled up again. Gaara, apparently driven by a corresponding urge, shoved her down violently until her back hit the mattress, and knelt between her legs. After establishing a tight grip on her hips, he pulled her towards himself, ignoring her feeble resistance, until her bottom rested on his thighs. Matsuri wasn't particularly happy at the position, since it promised her to have even less control than she had had before. She was about to express her displeasure, when Gaara placed one of his hands between her thighs. She froze with her breath held, waiting for him to slip into her again, but he only pressed at her most sensitive spot with his thumb, watching her with half-lidded eyes.

The kunoichi moaned impatiently. The slow, delicate caress wasn't what she yearned for, and she whined with frustration, hoping Gaara would at least quicken his pace, but he was denying her that particular gratification as well.

"G-Gaara," she managed to breathe between whimpers, "I need—I need you!"

"You still didn't ask me," he returned darkly, apparently taking rather great delight in torturing her. Matsuri barely registered his words, though. His touch was driving her to the edge and she couldn't take no more. With almost painful cry, she pushed away his hand and jerked her own fingers against her sweetest spot. Before she could even establish a satisfying rhythm, Gaara knocked her hand off again, and the madness rising deep from within her threatened that she would start growling and biting, like a wild animal being denied its prey.

The redhead was perfectly aware of her frustration. Moreover, his own impatience was rapidly growing either. He shifted back a bit, his eyes sticking to Matsuri's, and settled his hands against the mattress by her sides. The young woman licked her parted lips, small gasps constantly tearing out from her throat. Gaara leaned forward until his body hovered over hers, leaving only a small gap, and her hand sneaked down swiftly, her fingers locking around him to lead him where he belonged. He lowered his head, and touched his girlfriend's cheek with his forehead. Matsuri's hot, unsteady breath fanned over his face, and then, finally, both of them were in the position to continue. Crushing his lips into hers, he thrusted his hips, in one smooth, fluid motion joining with his most precious person.

He planned to move slowly at first, but he considerably underestimated the power of his own desire. The boiling lava ran through his veins, and the point of no return was crossed even before he could notice when it happened. Matsuri was thrashing wildly under him, screaming his name, and the ride quickly became more and more violent, and fierce, until they knew nothing more than the perfect rhythm, which quickly made them rise to the level where they were no separate beings anymore.

Merged into one, souls and bodies united, they slowly descended from heaven, sighing and quietly whispering to each other the affectionate, earnest words. None of them both was willing to return but, unfortunately, their sweetly cherished union couldn't last forever. Like a swimmer emerging from the depths of the sea, they breathed deeply, reluctantly letting the outer world affect their previously muffled senses, until the elation gradually faded and tranquility reigned.

Gaara shifted his weight and rested on his side next to his girlfriend. Matsuri uttered a disapproving noise and moved closer, cuddling up to him. Wallowing in the afterglow, they slowly drifted to the mellow state of drowsiness, which was momentarily disturbed, when the redhead raised his head and placed a gentle kiss on Matsuri's forehead.

"I love you," he purred, moving back to a comfortable position, while the dazed smile surfaced the young woman's mouth.

"I love you, too," she echoed sleepily, hiding her face in his shoulder. "But don't make me ask you again, okay?"

Withdrawing a bit, he put his index finger on her cheek and let it glide along her features. Eventually, she assessed him with half-lidded eyes, and he smirked lightly, before he brought his lips to her ear.

"I certainly will."

**~~The end~~**

o0o0o0o

*author faints after taking too many cold showers*


End file.
